


anything?

by halfasgoodatanything



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asgardian Liquor (Marvel), Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk Steve Rogers, Drunken Confessions, Dum-E - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Steve Rogers, Pining Tony Stark, Robots, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, bots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:39:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfasgoodatanything/pseuds/halfasgoodatanything
Summary: steve misses tony when he's on a business trip, so he drinks a flask of asgardian liquor, and plays with dum-e. tony comes home early, and confessions and cuddling and cuteness ensues.p.s.i cant gift this to tonie because idk his ao3 but jsyk this is for tony





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ell (amywaited)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amywaited/gifts).



The thing is, when Tony pictured Steve drunk, which isn’t often, mind you, he never pictured _this._

Tony- he thought Steve might drink a bit like Howard, tight like a coil with whiskey and only getting more bitter the more he drank, the darker bits of the Man Out Of Time coming out the less restraints he has to hide them. It’s reasonable enough of an assumption, from Steve’s stoic way of dealing with pain.

But Steve is most certainly not like that when he’s drunk.

Tony comes home to Steven Grant Rogers, in his workshop, trying his best to high five Dum-E and _giggling._

“You’re a good boy, aren’t ya?” Tony hears Steve, before he’s realized Tony’s walked in. Dulls the super senses, then. “Your daddy’s made you smart, that’s why. He’s also good. Very _very_ very good. Miss him.”

Steve’s drunk, and there’s a million ways to tell, the slur of his voice, how wide his eyes are- but mainly, he’s _happy._ Weightless, smiling at a robot and calling Tony _good_ and Dum-E good because he made him.

Yeah, Steve’s drunk.

“Hey there, Captain,” Tony says, as jovially as he can manage. Steve smiles back at him, just _wide_ and bright like Tony’s the best thing in the world. And damn it, that’s kind of adorable, seeing the guy he’s had a crush on for about 90% of his life look at him like _that._

“Tony!” Steve says, and strides over to him in those quick strokes he always does, fast and determined but this time, he _hugs_ Tony.

Arms still wrapped around a _very_ confused Stark, Steve speaks again, “I missed you. You shouldn’t go for too long again. Dum-E gets sad. Plus, I miss seein’ you ‘round. Awful mean of you to take my fella for weeks,”

Steve’s putting. Oh god. Steve’s pouting and sound’s Brooklyn and since when is Tony Steve’s _fella?_

Steve’s really good at hugs for someone who doesn’t get them much, and it’s enough to distract him from thinking about how _the hell Steve got drunk and ended up in his workshop._

“I’ll be sure to play with him now, Cap, how did you-“

“Please call me Steve,” he says, and there’s still that slowness to his words, but he looks _sad,_ like he’s going to _cry_ over Tony not calling him by his first name, “You call everyone their names but me. I’m Steve.”

“I know you’re Steve, honey,” and it slips because Steve looks so _sad,_ just hugged him and insisted he’d called him by his name and he needs that, “I’ll call you anything you want.”

Steve smiles like he’s been given a gift.

“Anything?”

“Sure. Now, how did you, when did you drink-“

“Thor gave me a flask of something last time he visited, and I didn’t think you’d be home until later, ’n, ’n, I missed you, wanted you back and thought I’d just take a sip to distract myself. Didn’t really work. Thas’ okay, you’re back now!”

Steve hugged him again.

Okay.

Objectively, he knew Steve liked him. That he probably thought about him when he went on business trips. They spent most of the day together these days, Steve sketching in the workshop while Tony tinkered. Tony had just thought, well, Steve didn’t like to be alone, and it got awful loud in the common rooms. Tony’s company, no matter what he’s like.

Steve _missed_ him.

Now’s not the time for his  _crush._

“Okay,” Tony says, but Steve keeps rambling.

“You were gone for _a week._ That’s far too long, you gotta play with the bots, and I-I don’ know how you’re expectin’ me to win you over if you’re not here.”

Steve’s a touchy drunk, his hands all over Tony’s arms, and he’s smiling like a kid, and god, Steve is usually so hidden, shy smiles at jokes he makes, so careful with affection. How many times has Steve wanted a hug, and everyone thought he was just the kind of person who didn’t need them?

 _Win you over._ Whatever the hell that means.

“You don’t need to win me over, Steve,” Tony says, guiding him to sit on the couch, “I already think you’re great.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“So you wanna be my fella?” Steve’s nervous, smiling, and he’s so _young,_ alcohol in his breath and lifting a large hand to touch Tony’s cheek, stopping short like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

And that’s just it, isn’t it? Steve hasn’t wanted someone in so long, and he probably doesn’t even know what he deserves, doesn’t know how to take what he wants. And now, Steve, who’s so young and so sweet and sketches his bots and saves the world has a crush on _Tony._ Intoxication is a hell of a thing.

“You don’t want that,” he says, mirroring Steve and touching his face. It kind of hurts when Steve leans into it.

“You don’t know what I want.” Steve says, and that’s his _Captain_ voice, and damn it he’s _stubborn,_ “I’m not confused.”

“You’re drunk, Cap.”

“I said it’s Steve. And who says I can’t want you? I do.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I said you don’t.”

“Tony,” and Steve’s eyes are fluttering shut and that’s just fucking _great._ The man Tony’s in love with just got drunk and played with his first bot and asked him to be _his_ and now he’s going to sleep.

He wants to say yes. Wants to curl up next to Steve and have him call him his _fella_ and be Steve’s. But Steve- he isn’t going to want this in the morning. And he’s probably going to hate him for even hoping.

“I’m awful tired, and I sleep alone, every night. Could you stay here?”

“Don’t know if that’s the best idea, Wing-head.”

“I’m, I’m a _master_ tactshun. I know.”

“Tactician?’

“Shuddup and cuddle me.”

“Platonic cuddling?”

Steve laughs, pulls Tony onto the couch (super-strength is easy to forget about when Steve’s got that dopey smile) and then he’s in Steve’s lap.

“Shuddup,” he says, too close, guiding Tony’s head to his chest,”And cuddle me.”

Honestly, if Steve changes his mind, he can’t blame him. He could enjoy this, besides it’s not like he’s allowed to leave.

Right before he drifts off, because Steve is warm and he’s happy and he can’t get the look of _desire_ in Steve’s eyes out of his head, he says something stupid.

“You really want me to date me?”

And before Steve nods off, he turns to him, smiles soft and sweet and genuine.

“I’d take you out, yeah. I’d take you dancin’,” pauses, pulls Tony closer, “Maybe I could kiss you. If I was real lucky.”

“If you want it in the morning,” Tony says, so close to Steve’s mouth he can almost taste the cherry flavor of a booze that would knock him out, “You can have it. Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Steve snuggles closer, and Tony feels hope cloud his chest, for the first time, more than the emptiness. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve wakes up!

When Steve wakes up, he’s groggier then he’s felt in years.

And it’s weird, because he doesn’t think he’s in his bed, or his room, even, and with the serum it’s not like-

Oh. _Oh._

The reason he was fuzzy was because he got _drunk_ because he missed Tony and decided to be sad and alone but intoxicated. Which is like, not a great decision itself, but _Tony_ had to come home and-

And Steve had hugged him without asking, had practically _begged_ for Tony to call him by his name, had his hands all over Tony and asked him to _stay._

For fucks’ sake, he’d told Tony that he wanted to- to _win him over,_ to _be_ with him, and if that wasn’t fucking _awful-_

The memory becomes crisp after a few moments, and he _hates_ how clearly he remembers it, how lovely Tony had felt in his arms, how he’d indulged in Tony’s affections like it was the kind of thing he had the right to. Like he was the kind of person that could talk to _Tony Stark_ that way.

And it’s too honest, isn’t it? That he wants Tony. That he wants Tony to be _his,_ wants him in the way he’d have when he was young enough to always have hope of love, not just when he convinces himself. There’s so much of him that just wants Tony to be all his, to be loved by the kind of man who’s presence fills the room so much you can’t help but adore it.

He wants Tony to call him _Steve,_ wants his name to be warm on his tongue. He never, ever wants to be _Cap_ to him. It’s almost _embarrassing,_ how much he wants these things.

Tony- he makes Steve believe that there’s a lot left of the man who went in the ice left.

And he let that hope fuck up the best friend he’s made in the new century.

“Steve,” he hears, and Jesus, he was so calm in this space he didn’t _hear Tony wake up-_ , _“_ Stop freaking out. You’re okay.”

“Tony, I am _so_ sorry, I never meant to pressure-“

“Steve, it’s fine,” Tony says, but he sounds tired, even though he’s slept all night. “You didn’t pressure me. You just didn’t sound like yourself.”

And that- he’s glad Tony isn’t going to hold it against him (as if he ever would) but-

_“You don’t want that.”_

Tony had said that to him. Not that he didn’t want him, but that Steve didn’t know what he wanted.

“What?”

“You were drunk, Steve, I’m not gonna think you meant something you said when you were plastered on Asgardian mead-“

“That was…not what I was apologizing for.”

A _very_ large part of him wants to _shut the fuck up_ but Tony- he thinks that he didn’t mean it, and this is the same feeling he gets when asshole reporters give Iron Man shit for saving the world _the wrong way,_ or something.

And okay, Tony doesn’t have to love him back, doesn’t have to want him or even look his way, but he can’t say that’s not how Steve _feels._

Tony looks at him like he’d like an explanation but wasn’t going to ask for it, so Steve huffs.

“Tony, I shouldn’t have been so intense about my…feelings,” and it’s hard not to remember the feel of Tony in his arms, how Tony had cuddled him to sleep, “I shouldn’t have told you while I was so out of it, or been so direct but- I’m not sorry for feeling that way.”

“You- you were drunk. You can’t have meant-“

“That’s not _up_ to you, Tony. You can tell me now, you can say I’m not what you want, that you don’t want to hear from me again or whatever,” it’s rather comforting that Tony looks shocked at the _notion_ of it, “You can tell me now, but you can’t say that I don’t want you.”

He remembers then, what Tony had said before he’d fallen asleep.

(Fallen asleep _holding_ Tony, no less.)

He called him _Steve._ He told him-

_“You can have it. Anything you want.”_

He’d sounded- he sounded _hopeful._ Like Tony was the one who was going to wake up and get rejected by the one he loved.

And wouldn’t that be awful? Steve, dangling his love over Tony’s face only to yank it away- And he knows what Tony’s like, knows that he’s so quick to think someone’s lying about loving him, that they’re confused, that if not loving him is an option, it’s the default.

“You’re so goddamn stubborn, Cap,” Tony says, before dropping his face into his hands and Steve’s heart _drops-_

“You said you’d call me Steve,” he hates how small his voice sounds.

“You’re- Steve-“

He’s not usually the type to push, but Tony’s looking at him, like he wants him to say he means it, and taking leaps when no one else would is kind of his thing.

“You said I could have anything I want, Tony.”

They’re still sitting on the couch, just sat up and Tony- he’s leaning into him, and he smells like cologne and motor oil and _him,_ and if he can do this, get tony to believe he wants him and _be_ with Tony-

“You can’t just _say_ these things Steve,” Tony says, but doesn’t move even a bit away, “You can’t say that you wanna take me out and that you want me to be your _fella,_ okay, because it makes me feel like you mean it and-“

It’s probably not the best decision. Neither was drinking. He hasn’t brushed his teeth and he really wanted to take Tony out first, but he’s always been an impulsive bastard and-

Kissing Tony feels like coming home, how one hand lands on Steve’s face and the other cards through his hair and he wants _everything._ He wants to call Tony _baby,_ wants to hear him laugh and have him close and kiss him through every moment, and _this_ is not how he saw this night going.

“You said I could have anything, right?”

“I feel like you’re going to take advantage of that, you _fiend,_ ” Tony’s voice is _stunningly_ attractive breathless, this is new information.

“What I _want_ ,” and Tony’s hand is now on his lower back, which _wow,_ hard to think, _“_ Is to take you out, and then do it again, and-“

“You mentioned wanting to kiss me,” Tony’s voice is low and sounds like caramel, smokey and warm and Steve wants- he just _wants._

_“That too.”_

“Why don’t we do _that_ now, and figure out dinner plans later.”

They did.

(Dinner was a lovely Italian restaurant, and they were late because it turns out not kissing Tony is a _very_ hard thing to do. Who knew!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS!!!  
> talk to me on tumblr: irndad!!

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @ irndad :D


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